


Take it on Faith

by Winterling42



Series: Flesh and Blood and Dust [7]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Backstory, Gen, Jewish Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:40:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterling42/pseuds/Winterling42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dag steals as much time as she can for reading, but understanding what her books say can be a bigger problem than one post-apocalyptic girl can solve. Set when she's around 9-10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take it on Faith

“What’s a bird?” The Dag was reading again. Or still. It was a resting day, so she was reading. Her Teacher came to sit by her side, his goldfinch daemon perching on his fingers so she was at eye level with the girl. 

“This is a bird,” he said, stroking his thumb down the daemon’s back. She chirred at the Dag’s Pheona, who copied her bright feathers for a moment before switching to a larger blue jay and hopping up to tickle the Dag’s shoulder. 

“And what’s all this about the sea?” the Dag asked, flipping over the Chumash as if reading it upside would make it clearer. “All the animals... where do they come from?”

“Before the Wars, there were animals everywhere. And green, and –”

“And everyone always had enough to eat and no one ever died.” The Dag rolled her eyes. “That’s what people _always_ say.” 

“Well. People still died.” Teacher looked off into the distance, resting his chin on his free hand. 

“But how do you _know_ what a bird is? If all you’ve seen is a daemon?” the Dag pressed. “My daemon can look like anything, and I don’t know what she is.” As if to demonstrate, Pheona hopped down to the ground and started changing. As fast as blinking she was a cat, a dog, a mole, a snake, a rabbit, a bee, a monkey, a jay again. She stopped at a spotted ocelot’s form and jumped into the Dag’s lap, wobbling and dizzy. 

“They remember,” Teacher said gently, his head turned to watch Pheona’s display. “When they settle, you know. And so we have to take a little more on faith than they used to.”

“I don’t know.” The Dag stared at the upside-down book on her knees, her hands wrapped gently around her daemon’s chest. “It all seems so strange.”

“Life is strange,” Teacher replied amicably. “And you’re the strangest of them all, little dag.” He reached over to ruffle her hair, his daemon fluttering to sit on top of his head. The Dag giggled, ducking out from under his hand. “Just remember that part, and you’ll be alright,” he said, grin sliding sideways a little. When the girl looked up at him he forced his expression straight again. “You’re the strangest thing this wild world has ever seen.” He told her. “Don’t let anyone take it from you.”

“Why?” she asked, and he snorted. 

“I’ll tell you when you stop asking questions,” he said, because he knew that then he never would. 


End file.
